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sergeantbarnessdoll · 4 months ago

Note

Doctor!Reader’s been catching Bucky up on pop culture. When he takes a hard hit to the head, he winds up in med-bay (after a while). He wakes up when she’s making her rounds, and she asks him what his name is.

“My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.”

The new nurse with her is concerned, but reader sends them out to take care of other patients while she further asses Bucky.

Reader calls him by his full legal name and is about to scold him thoroughly before he interrupts her and says that she doesn’t call him that, she calls him “Bucky” (at least in public, anyway).

Hard Hit » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Doctor!Female Reader

Summary: You’ve been catching Bucky up on pop culture and he suffers a hard hit to his head and winds up in the med bay.

Warning: Fluff, language, head injury, concussion, flirting, pet names

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creator.

“Can you get me the chart for Sergeant James Barnes?” You asked the new nurse.

The nurse nods and looks for his chart, finding it with ease and handed it to you.

“Mind if I come with you?” She asks curiously.

“Sure you can.” You say, giving her a smile.

She rounded the desk and followed you to Bucky’s room. You two walked in his room and stood by his bedside.

“Sergeant Barnes came in with a head injury almost 2 days ago and hasn’t woke up yet.” You say, filling her in.

“Did you get a Head CT to rule out anything?” She asks.

“Yes.” You answered. “He just has a mild concussion.” You tell her. “Until he wakes up, just keep an eye on him.” You say.

Bucky’s eyes fluttered open, squinting them to adjust to the light in the room. He looked around the room to gather his surroundings. He heard the sound of your voice and turned his head towards you to see you talking to the new nurse. You turned your attention to him to check his vitals, only to find out that he’s awake.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” You smile. “You worried me there for a bit.” You said. “How do you feel?” You asked.

“My head hurts.” Bucky groans at the pounding in his head.

“We’ll get you something for the pain.” You put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Meanwhile, we’re going to check your vitals. This is Nicole. She’s a new nurse here.” You tell him.

“Hi.” Nicole politely said.

As you were checking his vitals, Bucky narrowed his eyes at Nicole.

“Do you remember your name?” You asked him.

“My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepared to die.” Bucky says, staring at Nicole.

“Wh-What?” Nicole asks, stuttering with wide eyes.

Nicole grew concerned and confused, wandering why he said that. She wasn’t sure if it was due to his head injury or something else.

“Go round on my other patients.” You whispered to her. “I’ll take care of him.” You say.

Nicole nods and left Bucky’s room. Bucky waved bye at her as he watched her walk out of his room.

“Follow the pen with your eyes.” You instructed.

Bucky’s eyes focused on the pen in front of him. You moved the pen slowly and his eyes followed it, passing that exam with flying colors.

“James Buchanan Barnes-” You were about to scold him, but he interrupted you before you could.

“You don’t call me that.” He points out. “It’s Bucky to you, doll face.” He says.

You sighed and playfully rolled your eyes at the Super Soldier.

“Why would you scare her away like that?” You asked.

“I didn’t like her.” He answers.

“You can’t just say you don’t like someone when you just met them.” You say.

“Yes I can.” He says with a grin.

You rolled your eyes at him again and continued to assess him.

“How long was I asleep?” He asks.

“Almost 2 days.” You tell him. “Do you remember anything before that?” You asked.

Bucky furrowed his eyebrows, trying to remember what happened before he got knocked out and ended up in the med bay.

“I was on a mission and…” He pauses, trying to remember what else happened. “I think someone came up behind me and hit me hard on the back of my head.” He tells you, rubbing the back of his head.

You checked the back of his head to make sure there wasn’t any bleeding or any bumps.

“There’s no bleeding or bumps, but I’ll still get you something for the pain. I’ll be right back.” You say.

Bucky nodded and watched you walk out of his room. You went to the medicine cart and got him something for the pain he’s having in his head.

“I’m back!” You say, walking back in Bucky’s room.

“It’s about time.” He sat up. “I was missing you.” He says with a pout.

“Here, take this. It should help with the pain.” You say, handing him a cup of water and a pill to help with his massive headache.

He took both from you and took the pill. Bucky narrowed his eyes again when Nicole walked in the room.

“Sorry for bothering you, but I can’t find the chart for the patient down the hall.” She says.

“Oh sorry!” You realized you had the chart with you. “I had it with me this whole time.” You say.

You handed it to her. She slowly walked in Bucky’s room after what he said earlier. She took the chart from you and left the room, picking up where she left off with your patients.

“Stop it!” You lightly smacked his shoulder. “She’s done nothing wrong.”

“You don’t know that.” Bucky says.

“She’s just new here, Bucky.” You tell him. “Be nice to her.” You say.

Bucky mumbled an ok and leaned his head back against the pillow.

“I have other patients to check on. I’ll be back in a little bit.” You say.

“Are you cheating on me with those patients, doll?” Bucky jokingly asks.

“No I’m not.” You giggled. “You’re my favorite patient.” You tell him.

“I better be.” He says, followed by a wink.

You gave him a smile before leaving his room to check on your other patients. You went to the nurses station to get their charts.

“I’m done checking on your other patients.” Nicole says, putting their charts in front of you.

“Thank you so much, Nicole.” You thanked her and smiled. “Also, I apologize for what Bucky said earlier.” You say.

“Was it due to his head injury?” She asks.

“No. He was quoting a movie I probably shouldn’t have told him about.” You say.

“Oh ok.” She says.

“Did he scare you when he said that?” You asked.

“A little.” She says.

“Sorry. I’ll make sure he doesn’t do it again.” You said. “Also, if you need anything, I’ll be working from Sergeant Barnes’s room.” You say.

Nicole nodded and went back to work. You went to your office and grabbed your laptop and your bag before going back to Bucky’s room.

“I’m back!” You announced, walking in Bucky’s room.

“Finally!” Bucky playfully and exaggeratedly sighed. “I was beginning to think you were going to leave me for another patient.” He says jokingly.

“I would never do that.” You joked along with him. “Nicole already checked on my other patients and I went to my office to get some things.” You say.

Bucky watched you open your laptop and put it in front of him. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as he looked at the website page you already had up for him.

“What is this?” He asks.

“More information you missed over the years.” You say.

“I prefer newspapers.” He says.

“I don’t have newspapers so you’re getting the internet.” You say.

Bucky wanted to be stubborn, but he likes listening to you.

“Fine.” he mumbles. “Can I watch TV on this thing?” He asks. “Cause the TV in here doesn’t have the movies I like from the 40s.” He says.

“I can look some up for you if that’s what you want. Write them down.” You say, giving him a pen and paper.

Bucky wrote down some movies he likes, specifically movies from the 1940s that he hasn’t watched in years. He gave you the list of movies and you looked at them before finding one of them for him.

“Here you go.” You say, putting the laptop in front of him.

Bucky smiles when he sees the title of his favorite movie appear on the screen.

“Thank you, doll.” Bucky says with a smile.

“You’re welcome.” You smiled back. “Just know, when this movie is over, I’m educating you on more pop culture.” You say.

“Deal.” Bucky agrees.

🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖

-Bucky’s Doll

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sarahowritesostucky · 9 months ago

Text

📖"Hydra Sanatorium"

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers

Word count: 5112

Tags: a/b/o, medical institutionalization, cognitive disability, made up kinky medical things, diapers, catheters, non-con medical procedures, restraints, forced wetting, hurt/comfort, humiliation, kind!Careworker Steve, bratty!Patient Bucky, alpha Steve, omega bucky, dub con everything due to a/b/o biology, dry humping, forced orgasm, masturbation, implied self harm, orgasm therapy, age difference (19/30), omorashi

Summary: Bucky is a troubled teen coping with the traumatic transformation of late-onset omega puberty.

Steve's been developing too much of an attachment, he knows he has. But he might not have the self control to remain detached anymore.

A/N: This fic contains heavy medical kink, diapers/wetting, and a/b/o dub-con shenanigans. Consume Responsibly.

Wait! I think I missed a previous chapter! Series Masterlist

Chapter 5: Excited Catatonia with Aggression

It takes a while longer for Bucky to calm down, shuddering and shivering in Steve’s arms.

This session has been a big deal for the poor kid, since he’s been denied for so long. Omegas don’t do well when they don’t get release regularly. And Steve’s pretty sure that not only is Bucky sobbing because of that, but also because he’s likely been touch and sensory-starved at home as well. Who even knows the last time the boy was hugged, outside of a stay on-ward?

It is, unfortunately, going to be time to tell him about his family situation soon. Steve knows that if he doesn’t bite the bullet tonight, then his boss will do it for him tomorrow. And that won’t increase her confidence in Steve’s impartiality any. Steve could almost stomach her ire, but the part where Christina would be the one breaking the news to Bucky that his folks don’t want him is what sways Steve.

The kid deserves better than Doctor Raynor’s notoriously blunt demeanor. Christina doesn’t do it on purpose, but she’s ex-military and that’s very, very apparent in the way she approaches people. There’s a reason why she has a PhD and not an MD after her name. Raynor is much better suited to managing employees and administrative duties than she is dealing with patients … She tends to make them cry.

It’ll be much easier on Bucky if Steve is the one to tell him.

Still, after watching him come apart in his lap so beautifully, Steve has to pause a few times to steel himself for this conversation. “Well,” he says, trying to think of something else to help put the omega in a good mood. “You earned your reward. Been good all day. You want to take the cath out now?”

Bucky sits back with wide eyes. “Really?” he says, brightening. “Yeah! Can we?”

“We sure can, Sweetheart.” Steve kisses his cheek. “Good boys get nice things.” Bucky blushes, and Steve chuckles about it as he swaps out to a new pair of latex gloves. “Okay, bear with me here.”

It’s a simple process. All Steve has to do is use safety scissors to snip the inflation valve off the tubing, and a second later Bucky’s making a tiny noise of surprise, and the small amount of saline liquid that’d filled the balloon comes dribbling out. “Oohh,” he sighs, relieved. “Oh God. Thank you. Fuck, that was so annoying!”

Steve hums sympathetically. “I can imagine.” Having an object in one’s bladder giving the constant urge to pee doesn’t sound like a good time to him, either. But that’s why it’s one of the consequences that Hydra utilizes. It’s a way to help combative patients accept that they’re no longer in control of their bodies. “Bet you’re not gonna give me trouble on your diapering anymore, huh?”

Bucky grumbles and tucks his head down. “Mmn.”

Steve’s lips twitch fondly. “I’ll pull it out now,” he warns. The first few times that they’d had to cath Bucky, he’d been a crying, resisting mess, but after three years of coming in and out of the ward, he knows the drill. Steve gets enough lube to coat the head of his cock, being sure to slip some all around the tube and push it into his slit as much as possible. “Mmkay. Relax your muscles. Annnd deep breath.” Bucky inhales, and Steve slides the catheter out.

“Ugh.”

“All done.” He tosses it in the medical waste bin. “Good job.”

Bucky exhales hugely, eyelids fluttering. He looks down at himself, and flushes when he sees that his penis has dribbled a little more in Steve’s lap. “Sorry,” he mumbles, and Steve shushes him.

“S’okay. It happens.” They both know that Bucky’s bladder control won’t return to normal for a couple of days, which is to be expected. Bucky seems self-conscious of having wet on him though, no matter how miniscule the amount. So Steve reiterates how it doesn’t bother him, even taking Bucky’s hand in his and pressing their joined hands to the wet patch that’s right at the waistband of his scrub pants. Bucky blushes massively, but his scent radiates comfort, which is the goal. “You’re a good boy, Bucky,” Steve tells him in his best soothing rumble, then just keeps talking at him like that, because it clearly helps Bucky to calm down and be happy.

Steve’s dick is mighty happy, too, though he’s dead set on ignoring it. It’s not like it’s unusual for him to get aroused in-session with patients. It happens. … But it happens a lot more frequently with Bucky than with anybody else. Steve’s been aroused ever since he first got into the double-sit chair with Bucky, and half hard since he started fingering him. Things are a little more pronounced now, and he knows his erection is obvious. It’s approaching a full-on boner, though thankfully still angled down and towards the crease of his thigh. His compression underwear are doing an admirable job of keeping things contained, but it’s still a thick and obvious shape under the pale green of his scrubs. “Um,” he says stupidly, seeing their entwined fingers so close to it. He hastily releases Bucky’s hand.

Over the years at this job, Steve’s gotten used to not acting on his own arousal, but he isn’t surprised that Bucky gets distracted by it. The boy is a sexually frustrated omega teenager, after all, and Steve’s the only alpha who’s ever touched him intimately, probably the only one who’s been dominant to him in any sort of organized or respectful fashion, too. He can’t expect the kid to have the same control of his faculties that a regular person would. That’s just not how omega bodies work. And Steve is a healthy, thirty-year-old adult alpha male, so it’s simple fact that when he’s aroused like this he’s gonna wind up clogging the air a bit for Bucky. He can see it happening already, knocking the kid a little woozy. “You okay, bub?”

His nostrils keep flaring and he keeps sucking his bottom lip compulsively as he stares at Steve’s crotch. He stops using his words and switches to little grunts and hums, starts making this needy little sound in the base of his throat that both medical literature and video titles on PornHub would refer to as a ‘keen’. His eyes go glazed and he makes that noise repeatedly while his backside weeps and his nipples pebble up beneath his shirt.

This, right here. This is why people make fun of omegas as being empty headed cocksluts. Not that Steve sees it that way—God no, he doesn’t. It’s a beautiful thing to him, to see Bucky go all soft and wanting, a natural reaction that tells him the omega is feeling pleasured enough and protected enough to let go. It means his body and brain have actually decided that it’s safe enough for him to be vulnerable like that. If nothing else, it’s a huge fucking compliment to Steve as an alpha. “Oh, Honey,” he coos, petting up and down Bucky’s sides. “You gettin a little soft, mm? Sinking a little?” Bucky whimpers and Steve hushes him supportively. “That’s okay, Buck. I’m here. Alpha’s here. You can let go for a little while if you need to.”

“... ‘pha,” Bucky slurs, latching onto the word, and Steve nods.

“Yeah, Sweetheart, Alpha’s got you. You want to lay your head down for a—”

‘Going soft’ usually only means whining and slicking and, well, going soft. It’s something easily contained and soothed, encouraged into a nap or a bit of cuddling. But that’s in healthy and well-adjusted omegas. Bucky veers in another direction altogether when he slides his hand over and starts aggressively cupping Steve’s erection through his pants.

Steve’s eyes widen. “Hey, hey. Uh-uh.” He tries to grab Bucky’s wrist but the boy evades him and his scent sours at what his dumbed down mind perceives as rejection. “Buck, now listen: you can’t touch me there.”

Bucky’s too far down already, and hearing this just makes him get more aggressive. He shoves forward, hand moulding back to the shape of Steve’s dick and squeezing insistently. “Nnn.”

A guttural sound of pleasure escapes Steve before he can cut it off, and then he’s on course correction. “O-okay bub,” he chokes out, gathering Bucky’s hands and guiding them away. “You know I can’t let you.”

Bucky whines mightily at being denied, rocking in his lap like a tantrum and trying to tug his hands free. His hips are jerking in tiny movements, and the strap support that’s under his thighs is definitely the only reason he’s not grinding directly against Steve’s crotch right now. “Nnn!” he whines, when he tries to tug his hands free and can’t. “Nnn!” He starts to get violent. He gets his hands free for a split second and manages to whack Steve upside the head before Steve regains control.

“Bucky,” he Voices, quiet but stern, “Stop. Don’t hit. I can’t let you touch my dick. You know that. It’s against the rules. Now stop. Alpha’ll be real mad if you don’t listen, right?” After Bucky finally tapers off and goes lax in surrender, Steve cautiously releases his hands. The omega grumbles unintelligibly and puts them on his shoulders instead of trying to get them anyplace Steve’s employment contract says they can’t be. His fingers curl hard at the bend of Steve’s neck and his nails do dig in a little meanly, but the point is he’s trying. Steve relaxes and praises him with a gentle, “Good job, baby. That was good listening.”

Bucky grunts a little more, and he seems to get his brain back online after a few more minutes pass by and he’s relaxed into Steve’s lap better. He doesn’t look as buzzed, looks like maybe he remembers most of the English language.

“You back with me?” Steve asks, when he notices him starting to try and hide his face in shame again.

Bucky nods, scrubbing his cheek on Steve’s shoulder. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “Didn’t mean to.”

“I know, sweetheart. You’re okay. You pulled out of that one real good. I’m proud of you.”

One of the things Bucky struggles with is the tantruming that he tends to shoot off into during or after release. ‘Excited Catatonia with Aggression’—Present in every edition of the DSM since III came out in the eighties. It’s somewhat like a heat frenzy, only with behaviors that can turn self-injurious and emotionally harmful in the blink of an eye. Steve is relieved that they were able to avert an episode this time. “Real good,” he repeats. “Have you been practicing your calm down techniques at home?”

Bucky squirms. “Mmn.”

“Use your words, bub.”

Bucky grumbles some more, and he keeps hiding against Steve’s shoulder, but eventually he does admit, “I do ‘em sometimes. … Sometimes in my room. At night.”

Steve feels his heart ping in with another dent. ‘At night’, he knows, just means when Bucky’s family won’t catch him doing it. When he won’t be shamed for rocking or sucking or stimming in some other way. Steve’ll never forget the first time he’d tried to send Bucky home with a few helpful items. The father had gone red in the face and dragged Bucky out the doors, and Steve had been unable to do anything but watch from the building’s west entrance as everything they’d given Bucky to take home with him was dumped right there in the parking lot.

Deep down, even way back then, Steve had known in his heart that Bucky wasn’t going to be able to stay with his family. Not if he was going to make it.

(And Steve really needs him to make it.)

“... Steve?” Bucky sounds shy and fatigued, which can happen when he’s fought off the emotional stress of a tantrum. “Can we stay here for just a little bit? Please?” He shuffles on his knees with a sniffle, pressing close for comfort. “Just for a little bit? You smell so good, and I don’t wanna leave yet.”

“Of course, sweetheart, yeah. We can do that. We can stay for as long as you want.” Steve really means it, because he knows he’s got to figure out a way to tell Bucky the bad news tonight. And Steve hates to think the worst of any patient, but he’s got a bad feeling that it’s not going to go over well at all. “Buck?” he prods gently, waiting until he knows the omega is paying attention. “Honey, can we talk a little bit?”

Maybe if he can get Bucky to talk it out, he thinks, get him to conclude on his own that going home isn’t the best option for him, then maybe Steve can present the change in custody as a choice. It’s wishful thinking, but he has to try. He doesn’t want to crush Bucky’s sense of self worth more than it already has been. Bucky already feels dejected and unloved, and knowing that his family has legally washed their hands of him isn’t something Steve wants him to have to deal with. It’s better if Steve can talk him around to the other side, make him ‘decide’ that he doesn’t want to go home to his family.

Steve knows Christina wouldn’t approve of the deception. And he knows if she found out, he’d be taken off Bucky’s case at best, professionally reprimanded at worst. He’d be considered compromised. And hey, maybe he is. Doesn’t mean he’s going to do things any different until somebody makes him. Bucky’s still his patient right now, and Steve is going to take care of him the way he thinks he needs. “So … um, I wanted to ask you about how things’ve been at home, lately.” Bucky tenses and Steve hushes him, bringing a hand up to cradle the back of his head and encourage him to press his face closer. Bucky takes the cue and snuffles into Steve’s neck, mouthing over the pulse point. Steve pats his back. “Has anybody been close with you?” he asks, near-pained because he thinks he already knows the answer. “Your mom maybe, or your brothers?” Bucky shakes his head and Steve feels awful. “Are you sure? Snuggling? Or, even just a hug when you need it? Some scenting?”

The last time Bucky had been admitted on-ward, the social services team had roped his folks into a session to try and better educate them on their son’s new special needs. Steve hadn’t been present—had been on vacation, of all things, Christ—but he’s heard that the parents did not appreciate the instruction, and they didn’t take any of the information to heart. Obviously.

“Mm mn,” Bucky’s saying, rubbing his mouth over Steve’s skin as he speaks. “I never ask. Don’t want ‘em to know. They’d just make fun’a me if I asked.”

Steve inhales sadly. “You need regular touch Bucky. Hugs, skin contact, lap time, something.”

“No,” he mumbles, sounding like the surly teenager he is. “You don’t get it.”

“Well explain it to me, then.”

“They’re totally ashamed of me. My dad hates me.”

Steve tuts. “I’m sure that’s not true, Honey. They may be uncomfortable about certain things—uneducated, or ill-equipped to help you. The counselors here have talked to you about it, haven’t they? You know: about how people can have implicit biases that they—”

“No!” Bucky gets angry and pulls away, sitting back on his knees and giving Steve a sharp look. “I’m embarrassing to them. They don’t want the neighbors to know! My brothers’ friends aren’t allowed to come over to our house to hang out anymore, so they hate me too, and just … Ugh! You just don’t get it, Steve. Not everybody believes like you guys do here. Lots of people just think that omegas are … they just think that we’re …”

“Honey,”

“Mm mn,” he sniffles, stubborn. “They think we’re useless, dumb. A waste of space.”

“That’s not true and you know it Bucky,” Steve says sternly.

“I don’t know shit,” he growls. “That’s how it is in the real world, Steve. And how’re they wrong, huh? I’m never going to be able to have a job, never gonna be able to take care of myself.”

“Bucky,” Steve pleads, concerned at the vitriol in Bucky’s voice. He should not be talking like this, and the fact that he is means that things at his home have been more abusive than Steve realized.

“—Just a waste of tax dollars. A drain on society. Waste of hardworking people’s tax dollars,”

“Stop.” Steve’s pissed when he Voices it, and it comes through loud and clear. Bucky shuts up right away. He blinks wide eyes at him, and Steve takes the opportunity to shut him down. “I don’t ever want to hear you talk like that again, Bucky,” he says, easing off from his Voice when he can see he’s gotten the kid’s attention. He puts his hands on Bucky’s hips and looks at him sternly. “There are people who think like your parents do, yes. But it’s not nearly the majority. I think you’re under the impression that a lot of people share those ugly beliefs.” He waits, and when Bucky says nothing to deny it, Steve huffs. “It’s not many. I’d say … ten percent of folks? Maybe fifteen, when there’s a Republican in the white house.”

“What? Really? …You’re not just saying that?”

Bucky looks slightly swayed. Bolstered, Steve pets his hands up and down Bucky’s sides, rucking the soft material of his tee shirt as he does it. “No, I’m not just saying that. Most people don’t think the way your folks do. Only assholes who watch Fox News parrot out the sort of vile shit you just did.” He raises a knowing eyebrow, daring Bucky to deny it. He’s met George Barnes a few times. He knows what type the man is. “You are just as important as any other person, Hon,” he promises, and when Bucky starts to sneer again, he’s struck by the distinct urge to smack him.

He digs his fingers in warningly at the boy’s waist. “Hey, listen to me, now.” Bucky stops sneering, and Steve sighs, trying to think of something he can say that’ll make Bucky realize he’s actually worth something. “Do you … Do you believe in God, honey?” he asks—not at all professional, but Steve’s gone past professional with Bucky for a while now, whether he wants to admit it or not. He’s heard Bucky make a few flippant comments in the past, about ‘God’ or ‘heaven’ or ‘prayers’ (usually in relation to morbid comments about wanting to die or off himself), so he’s taking a chance and going out on a limb here. “Hm?”

“God?” Bucky’s brow furrows. “I guess so. I mean my family never really goes to church except for—”

“I didn’t ask if you go to church,” Steve interrupts. “I asked if you believe in God, in one form or another.” He waits patiently for Bucky to answer him. When he does, it’s with a tiny nod and a mumbled,

“Yeah. I think so. … I do.”

Steve softens. “Okay then. Me too, by the way.” Bucky makes a weird face like he’s still unsure why Steve is talking about this, So Steve explains, “Think about it: Do you really think there’s any God out there who’d create a whole class of people that didn’t have a purpose? Ten percent of humanity that’s just a ‘stupid waste’?” He waits until Bucky makes a face in consideration. “Right. I’m Catholic, you know? My ma dragged my butt to mass every Sunday growing up. And I just wish you could’a heard the things I did, the things they preached. It was never ugly like what your folks’ve been telling you. Omegas are different from other people, but so are Alphas. Doesn’t mean we’re not just as good and important as anybody else. We just have different needs, and that’s okay.” He offers Bucky a cautious smile. “I mean, maybe it’s not a coincidence that we’re five and five of the population, huh?” He reaches up and cradles the side of Bucky’s face, tracing his cheekbone with the pad of a thumb. “It’s like somebody had this idea we’d be complimentary, or something.”

Bucky’s lips have parted, and he even smiles reluctantly at the soft teasing in Steve’s tone there at the end. He reaches up and covers Steve’s hand with his own. “I guess so,” he murmurs. “I mean, it kinda makes sense.”

“Mm.” Steve smirks. “It does.” He kisses his cheek and gives another little squeeze on his waist. “C’mon. Let’s go get cleaned up.”

Bucky is sullen at first when they exit the massage room, but when Steve makes it clear that he won’t be leaving Bucky’s side now that their lap time is over, the omega trails along happily enough. They wash up in the bathroom and change into clean clothes. Bucky doesn’t fuss at all when Steve helps him into a fresh diaper, but he does mumble, “I hate ‘em.”

Steve has just pulled up the soft fleece pants for Bucky. “Do you really? Or d’you just hate how embarrassed it makes you feel?”

Bucky chews his lip and doesn’t answer for a long minute, his lashes lowering and his cheeks darkening. “... The second one, I guess. Embarrassing.”

If you were my omega, Steve wants to say so badly. You’d never have to feel embarrassed about anything. Not for the rest of his life, because Steve would take care of him, make him feel like the treasure he is. Like he deserves. He licks his lips, overly emotional and trying not to let it show. “Hey,” he says softly, putting his hand over Bucky’s fleece-covered knee. “You know it’s a common thing, the wetting, right bub?”

Bucky nods sullenly. “I guess.” He’s still sitting on the changing table with his legs thrown over the side, and Steve steps forward to give him a hug. “Who’s ever gonna want to put up with me?” he says, and Steve’s heart just about fractures.

Me, he wants to say so badly, but he can’t. He holds the words back like bile in his mouth, hugs him tighter and says into his hair, “Lotsa people, Buck. There’s whole agencies devoted to helping omegas find their mates.”

“There are?”

“Of course. Half my job is making sure patients are set up to succeed in the world, once they get outta here.” He steps back and takes Bucky’s hand, and together they walk out of the bathroom and down the ward’s hallway. “That’s actually something you and I need to talk about.”

It’s dinnertime, so Steve walks them to the room where all the patients on C Hall eat their meals. He makes himself a coffee while Bucky goes to load up a tray with food from the line, then they sit together away from the other patients. Steve works up the nerve to have the conversation he’s been avoiding all day. “So,” he says. “When you get out of here,”

Bucky makes a face down at his tray of food. “Ugh.”

“Ugh?”

He shrugs. “I dunno. I hate thinking about going home. They’ll come and pick me up, be jerks all over again, till next time.” He stabs vindictively at the little pile of peas he’s got. “I know it’s crazy to want, but … sometimes I wish they’d never come back, that they’d magically just forget about me and I could stay here forever.”

“Aw, you don’t want to stay here forever,” Steve coaxes. “In a mental hospital?”

Bucky shrugs. “I’d rather be here with you then back home with them.”

God, Honey. You’ve got no idea how much I want to keep you. Steve tries not to get overeager, but this is a good start to the conversation they need to have, so he goes with it. “Yeah?” he prods. “I’ve always been able to tell your dad’s a bit of a prick, but things are that bad at home?” He wants Bucky to talk about the abuse, then they can segue into discussing healthier options. “Buck?”

Bucky avoids looking at him, poking around his food and making patterns in the mashed sweet potatoes with his fork. “... Nobody makes fun of me here,” he says quietly. “I’m allowed to relax and … and do what feels good.”

Christ. Steve grits his teeth and imagines beating George Barnes’ face to a pulp. “Yeah Honey,” he eventually croaks. “Yeah that’s how it should be. Always. The fact that your folks make you feel that way, that they treat you the way they do … It’s wrong. It’s abusive. So is the way they’re always dumping you here and yanking you out, using it as a punishment. You do realize that?”

Bucky glances up at him, but he shrugs. “I guess so,” he mumbles.

“No, not ‘I guess so’, it is,” Steve insists. He nods at Bucky's tray. “Stop playing with your food. Put a bite of that in your mouth.” Bucky’s eyes get a little wide at the command, and then he flushes and responds positively, listening to Steve and eating a forkful of potatoes. Steve feels a warm thrill of satisfaction at being obeyed. “Good boy,” he praises. “Look, Buck. I want to talk about your options for when you leave here. You do realize that I’ll help you, right? If you put in a petition on grounds of abuse, I’ll sign it. You could choose where you live. You wouldn’t have to go back to your parents’ place. In fact I don’t think you should. It sounds to me like they make you pretty miserable.”

“What?” Bucky looks surprised. “But where else would I go? I don’t have a job or any money.”

“That’s okay. You know the state puts money aside for omegas, right? We can get you set up with what you need.”

Bucky looks wary, but he nods. “Yeah. They talked about it in life skills class. Welfare programs.”

Steve supposes that’s the sort of thing George Barnes talks trash about at home. “Yeah,” he says encouragingly. “You can apply for an apartment and an income. It won’t be a lot, but it’d be enough to live off of. You’ll get medical, housing, heat support.” Bucky’s face goes scarlet at the mention of his heats, but Steve presses on. “And there are jobs out there for omegas who want to work. You just have to know where to look. Like this girl I know from my church? She got a job working at a childcare center. Told me she loves it.” Bucky’s brow is furrowed as he takes in all that Steve’s saying, and Steve holds his hand out over the table, palm up. “C’mon, tell me what you're thinking.”

Bucky bites his lip but he does put his hand in Steve’s. “I don’t … I don’t know how to be on my own,” he admits. “I’m afraid. What if I mess up?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Steve squeezes his hand. “You won’t mess anything up. You know, I have so many omega clients who do well. Almost everybody does, really, when they get out of here. And you wouldn’t be on your own. There’d be people helping you. You’d get a caretaker assigned from an agency. A good one.” He hates thinking of another alpha helping Bucky, scent marking his apartment and making him feel good. But that’s Steve’s problem, not Bucky’s. “Honey, I think your self esteem has taken such a huge hit from this when it didn’t really have to. Your folks have been saying nasty shit in your ears ever since you presented three years ago, and I’m sorry but that’s a damn shame. It’s fucked up.”

Bucky is looking at Steve like he can’t believe what he’s hearing, and Steve knows why. He’s never really cursed in front of Bucky before, and he’s certainly never verbally trashed the kid’s family. But Steve is fed up. He just spent the last hour helping the most beautiful, sweet omega through a release, and knowing that the poor thing is so mixed up about his gender because of his asshole family absolutely burns Steve up. He’s had enough. Bucky deserves to feel good about himself and have a good life. Steve gives his hand another supportive squeeze. “Hey, why don’t we sit down tomorrow and make a ‘what if’ plan, huh?”

“... What’s a ‘what if’ plan?”

Steve smiles gently. “It’s where we think up options for what you might do, where you might go, if you want something different when you get out of here.”

“Steve, I don’t … I don’t know.” Bucky looks down, face screwed up in worry. In a tiny voice, he admits, “I’m not sure I can really take care of myself. Not like this.” He says it so sadly, and Steve doesn’t know what ‘like this’ means, but he can make a few guesses. Across the table from him, Bucky is looking rather miserable. “My parents’ll probably be by any day now to pick me up, anyway.”

Steve cringes. He finally forces himself to say, “Well, that’s um, that’s not really going to happen, actually.”

“What?” Bucky’s wide, hurt eyes coming back up to lock on Steve don’t make this task any easier. “What do you mean?”

“Um, you see, your folks decided to sign a paper when they came by this last time, saying that they agree to relinquish custody.”

Bucky’s entire face falls in a way that absolutely breaks Steve’s heart. “Oh,” he says, voice tiny. “They got rid of me?”

“They signed over custody, baby. I think they finally realized that it was hurting you more than helping, so they agreed to let us take care of you from now on. They’re finally trying to do right by you.”

It’s a complete lie, Steve is pretty sure. He knows Bucky’s parents and he’s certain that nothing about the situation was done for Bucky’s benefit, only their own. The Barnes’ simply didn’t want to deal with their son’s needs anymore. But Steve is trying to put the best spin on this he can, for Bucky’s sake. “It’s going to be okay, Buck,” he promises. “I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you. You know that, right?”

Bucky’s already pulling into himself. He physically almost seems to shrink, shoulders hunching and arms tucking in. He nods at Steve’s question though, and he doesn’t rage or fit at the news that his family doesn’t want him anymore. “Yeah,” he says, voice dull. “I know.”

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